


the pace is on a runaway train

by cherryvanilla



Category: Actor RPF, Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Bad Puns, F/M, Humor, Olympics, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 04:32:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1155108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryvanilla/pseuds/cherryvanilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Screw that, I shouldn’t be the superhero’s girlfriend. I should be the superhero.” – Kristen Stewart (as quoted by Bill Condon, April 2011).</p>
            </blockquote>





	the pace is on a runaway train

**Author's Note:**

> I passed a gifset on my dash with the above quote and yelled at imp to tell me a scenario. She came up with, "someone is targeting Chicago Blackhawks captain Jonathan Toews. KStew to the rescue!" and then also provided one of her superpowers. So thanks for that, bb. Hope you enjoy this. 
> 
> Big thanks to sesame_seed and zan for beta <33 
> 
> Title by Metric. 
> 
> Graphics: 

Kristen’s got a sweet gig as a proofreader/fact checker for the Tribune. English and grammar were always her jam, even though she definitely uses far too much slang for her boss’s sanity; Terry’s so old school. Whatever, it’s not like she puts it in her work. Anyway, Superman had it right all those years ago because there’s nothing better than a newspaper job cover story. Revolutionist, that dude. She finds out about most crimes this way and it’s better than dealing directly with the cops, which is what made her leave L.A. in the first place. 

Kristen’s powers didn’t fully develop until after high school. She’d managed to finish college but just barely; controlling her telekinesis had been a challenge back then. But now she’s 23 and in Chicago and able to catch all the breaking news on TV and in the newsroom, or hearing the early tips and shit, so at least she can contribute in some ways. It’s not like she’s got Spidey Sense or any shit like that – she can’t know something’s about to happen and she always hates seeing the amount of crime she couldn’t possibly stop, but every little bit helps. 

Like the recent attempted school shooting she was able to rush to, running down the streets of the city and weaving in and out of people at such a speed they don’t even see her – simply assume she’s a strong gust of wind. She’d managed to get there just in time, used her telekinesis to bend the shooter’s gun to the point that it snapped and then restrained him. She’d been able to get out of there quickly enough but there was still buzz about the mystery savior, especially since that’d been her most high profile rescue to date. 

“Don’t _you_ become the target,” her dad had said on the phone afterward. 

“I can handle it,” Kristen replied. 

And she could. She really didn’t want the media coverage other superheroes got. There were a few others in Chicago – some with even better powers like flying and shit like that, who already got the attention. She’d honestly be happy if one of them took credit for her shit, doesn’t need fucking papz following her around, treating her like she’s something special because to Kristen she isn’t. She’s just – different. 

No one knows except her parents and her close friends. She’s thought about telling Terry, especially since her disappearing act that she blames on severe asthma attacks is starting to get old. 

Kristen’s walking after work from the red line when her x-ray vision reveals a girl in the trunk of a car and a dude standing over it. She recognizes her immediately as someone who’d just been reported missing a day earlier. The guy opens the trunk and Kristen zooms up to him and slams it back down on his fingers. He cries out and she kicks him in the face, causing him to land on the street between the two cars. She gets the girl out of the car, who is groggy and props her up against the passenger side door before locking the dude in the trunk. She takes off with the girl in her arms and she leaves her at the hospital before calling the cops and giving them an anonymous tip. 

Exhausted now, Kristen heads home where she cracks open a bottle of wine before settling in for an exciting evening of old movies and cuddling with her cat. She goes out some, usually with the intent of wanting to pick someone up, but she’s in the middle of a rather massive dry spell. 

She just finds she doesn’t have the fucking energy when it comes down to it lately. A one night stand would be nice, and not too complicated, yet even that seems too much right now. She’s still adjusting to Life as a Superhero, honestly. She’s rescued more people in Chicago than she ever did in L.A. Anything beyond a one night stand is just – pretty impossible to think about as well. The thought of having to tell someone, having to deal with all that fucking drama which will eventually lead to resentment when they just can’t seem to understand that this isn’t something she chooses, it chooses her – well – it’s why she and Rob didn’t work out. And the jadedness she felt after that crashed and burned hasn’t exactly left her. 

So this is Kristen’s life: a bad-ass superhero with a pretty cool day job and nights spent in front of the TV cuddling Jella when there isn’t someone to be saved. 

And then Jonathan Toews shows up.  
__________________________________  


Jonathan Toews doesn’t necessarily _show up_ as much as Kristen willingly pulls him into her life all because she has to proof and fact check a story that’s going out in the afternoon edition. He’s the captain of the Chicago Blackhawks and Kristen’s heard his name occasionally – in passing from co-workers who are hockey fans – but aside from that he’s never exactly been on her radar as sports aren’t really her thing. 

He’s on her radar now, though, because the story happens to be about the death threats he’s been receiving lately, something not exactly common in hockey. And apparently the dude, who they dub Captain Serious, isn’t taking _this_ seriously at all. That’s the title of the article actually: Captain Serious Not Fretting Over Death Threats and Kristen rolls her eyes so fucking hard as she scans the article, both because of the dumb name they call him (she knows what it’s like to be pigeonholed into a personality – everyone here thinks she can’t even have fun) and the fact that this moron is cracking bad puns about his plight instead of like, being concerned. 

“Guess I’ve lost one too many faceoffs lately, eh?” is one of the quotes from Toews and Kristen wants to punch him in his Canadian face. 

She reads the story thoroughly and probably does more background research than necessary for the fact-checking, but still. Point is this dude has been getting death threats since returning from the Olympics and it’s only now just coming out. Kristen frowns hard, finishes her work, and then thinks about it for the rest of the day.

It’s no shock to her that she ends up taking a detour to the United Center on her way home. The Hawks are playing the Blue Jackets tonight and Kristen loiters in the area until it’s over, tucked against the back of the building, sipping her coffee and waiting for the players to exit. He’s one of the last ones out and she zeroes in on him immediately. He looks even better in person than in photos. The thought startles her because yeah, objectively he’s an attractive guy but now she’s kinda perving on him in a shadowy corner and that’s just all kinds of creepy. She shakes it off, watches as he walks with some other dude until they break in a different direction for their cars. 

Her mouth drops open as she realizes he’s got no security with him. 

This dude may be hot, but he’s an idiot. 

So Kristen does the only thing she can do and follows him home, running alongside his car at a pace he can’t even see. Of course he lives in some massive building off Lake Shore. Kristen’s pulling her own weight and shit right now but her apartment is also the size of a shoebox and not necessarily in the greatest area. She ducks behind a potted tree near the parking garage and again watches, stunned, as he just enters his building by himself. From a fucking _darkly lit parking garage_ where any amount of scum could be lurking around the corner. 

She revises her earlier thought: he’s not just an idiot; he may be the _biggest idiot around_. 

_________________________

Kristen’s been tailing Jonathan Toews for three days now. His life is pretty mundane, for a hockey player. He gets up, goes to Starbucks for coffee, heads to practice if there is one or goes to Whole Foods if there isn’t, maybe hits up a bookstore, and that’s essentially it. He’s either in his apartment a lot or he’s at the UC. There’s no one following him besides herself, it seems. 

Then he has a road trip and there’s no way she’s following him on _that_ so she just hopes his death threat person is local. He’s in one piece when he gets back so Kristen’s assuming yes. 

She’s gotten entirely too invested in this dude since learning about him and can’t shake it – even found herself actually _watching his games_ while he was on the road. She tells herself to make sure there isn’t some crazy assassination attempt in a 18,000 seat arena but she’s not totally sure. This whole situation is different than anything she’s ever done. Usually a person is in immediate danger and she saves them. There isn’t normally time to dwell on them. 

There’s something about his determination level, his intensity when he plays that she can’t really take her eyes off of. And then he’ll randomly start smiling and nudging a teammate on the bench and her breath will catch in her chest. 

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered to Jella the other night, burying her face in his fur. 

She might’ve fingered herself to the dude’s dumb face that night but no one could really prove it. It’s all just further evidence that it’s been way too long since she’s gotten any. 

On the bright side his away games allowed her to focus on _other people_ and she did make a few rescues, which always feels good. Now that he’s back, though she’s started her stalking again. She has an off night and is loitering around his building when she sees his car leave the garage. She follows him and watches from across the street as he walks into some douchy bar. Sighing, she heads inside and orders a drink, fending off a few guys who try to pay for it. Then she gets angry because she’s so preoccupied trying to make sure this jerk takes care of himself that she doesn’t even entertain the idea of getting laid tonight.  


She watches Toews with a few guys, takes in how he laughs with his head thrown back, patting them on the back or hooking an arm around their necks, highly affectionate. It makes her heart swell with feeling and she tamps it down. There’s no use getting attached. The dude’s either gonna get himself offed before she can stop it or she’ll save him and he’ll go on with his life, probably without even remembering or realizing that she was the one responsible. 

Suddenly morose, Kristen knocks back another drink and wishes she were back home with her friends and family; sometimes she forgets how lonely this life that chose her really is. 

Toews walks right past her on his way out and Kristen waits a moment before getting up to follow. He stops for coffee and Kristen hides down an alleyway until he’s in her line of sight again. She frowns when he ducks into the next alley ahead of her. She waits and peeks around the corner but doesn’t see him. Jesus Christ. 

She heads down it, looking around but fuck, he isn’t there. Panicked now she’s about to start running until she hears a noise and looks back to see him shifting out from behind a dumpster. 

Kristen sighs and puts her hands on her hips. “What the hell are you doing?” 

Toews straightens up, brushing off his jeans. “Me? What are _you_ doing? You’ve been following me.” 

Kristen feels her pulse jump and tries for a smirk. “So that was your oh so clever way of trying to throw me off your trail?” 

Toews frowns even harder than he already was. “Yeah, well. It almost worked. I’ve seen you – a few times now. At first I thought it was a coincidence.” 

Kristen shrugs, still feeling on edge. “You shouldn’t assume shit like that, it’ll get you in trouble, man.” 

She watches him swallow a little. Good. She wants to scare him. He _should_ be scared, dammit. If not of her specifically then of the situation as a whole. 

“Are you a fan or something? You could just ask for a picture, you know.” He sounds a little amused. 

Kristen groans. Seriously? 

She takes a step closer to him and is disappointed that he doesn’t at least back up. “What if I’m your anonymous stalker?” 

Toews does the last thing she’s expecting him to do and laughs. “That’s all a stupid joke.” 

Kristen frowns, her blood boiling. “You really need to take this shit more seriously.” 

He laughs again. “I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me before.” 

Kristen really, really wants to hit him. “Yeah, well, they should.” 

His smile evens out, thank god, and he looks at her with a tilt of his head. “Hey – what’s this to you, anyway?” 

Kristen shrugs, not looking directly at him. “I’m just saying, man, I’d maybe take it more seriously. Maybe it’s nothing but maybe it’s something.” 

He doesn’t respond and she’s forced to meet his eyes again. 

Now he’s looking at her like he could see right through her and hey, that’s her power, not his. “You’re that girl, aren’t you.” 

It isn’t a question. 

Kristen’s stomach drops a little and she’s forced to reassess her opinion of this dude again, because nope, not an idiot at all. 

She drags her hand through her hair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, man.” 

Toews laughs a little. “Yeah, sure you don’t.” Then he sticks out his hand. “Jonathan Toews, which I guess you already know. Call me Johnny.” 

Kristen blinks at his hand like it belongs to an alien, then looks up at his face. His eyes are warm, smiling. 

She groans inwardly and shakes it. “Um. Kristen.”

“Nice to meet you, Kristen.” 

She rolls her eyes and accidentally lets her gaze drop to his body. Her X-ray vision turns on before she can help it and now she knows he’s wearing grey boxer briefs. Fuck. 

She jerks her gaze back up to her face and he’s smirking like he know what she was doing but – he can’t. 

“Look, man, are we gonna stay in this alley all night or are you gonna go home?” 

Johnny shrugs. “Depends. Are you gonna follow me again?” 

Kristen wants to say no but they both know it’ll be a lie. 

He looks at her smugly when she doesn’t answer. “Well, want a ride?” 

And that’s how she ends up in Jonathan Toews’ car, driving with him back to his place while they both ignore the huge elephant in the room – that he clearly knows she is Mystery Girl (that’s just what they call her because duh, she’s a mystery so far and no one has a picture of her, just vague eyewitness accounts from people who are usually experiencing too much post traumatic stress to really be thinking straight). 

Frankly, Kristen doesn’t _have_ an official superhero name. She’s never wanted one and never gave it much thought because again, she really would prefer not to have a public persona. She just wants to do what she’s meant to be doing – it doesn’t need to become a thing. She’s not a fucking superstar, she’s a super _hero_ there’s a difference. Or at least there should be, in her opinion. 

They don’t talk much on the ride to his place. Johnny keeps tossing her these inquisitive looks and Kristen just raises her eyebrows back at him. 

“So are you my personal bodyguard or something?” he says when they’re parked in the garage. 

“Or something,” Kristen laughs. It makes him look at her in surprise, like he wasn’t expecting her to crack a smile. She supposes that’s fair; she’s kind of been in all-business mode since they officially met. 

He smiles back at her and her stomach flips. 

“Uh, you should go in,” Kristen says, nodding towards the building. 

They both get out of the car at the same time and Kristen shakes off the butterflies traveling up to her chest. 

“You gonna walk me to my door?” he asks, voice smug. She wants to kiss him as much as she wants to punch him. Which means she needs to get out of here. 

“Just go home, asshole. And lock all your doors and shit.” 

“Yes, mom,” he replies, cheekily. 

Kristen makes a face and flips him off. 

He walks backwards towards the elevator and gives Kristen a little wave. 

Kristen waves back against her better judgement and feels her stomach jump again at his dumb smile. 

Another revision: _she’s_ the idiot.  
_____________________________ 

It becomes a thing. When Johnny’s around, so is Kristen. She’s no longer trailing him but just – going places with him. She’s there when he comes down from his building in the mornings and they go get coffee together, sometimes breakfast. Then he’ll go his separate way for practice and she’ll meet back up with him. She’s been missing work a bit but she had some vacation time anyway. 

He never presses her on who she really is and she assumes he’s just pretty confident about it in his own head, even though she never confirmed his speculation. And that’s what’s so weird about it: he isn’t treating her differently. They joke over coffee and browse the non-fiction section of Barnes and Noble and chirp one another on their tastes in just about every topic and he never, ever acts like she’s some freak or whatever. Maybe he would, if he knew all the shit she could do, but something tells her that might not be the case. All Kristen knows is she’s spending most of her free time traveling random places with Jonathan Toews and it’s the most fun she’s ever had. 

“Let’s go to a movie tonight,” he says one Saturday morning as they’re heading out for coffee. 

Kristen squints at him from the passenger seat. “Yeah?” 

Johnny shrugs, which he does a lot, except there’s something different about it this time. There’s a tension in his shoulders, in his jaw. 

“Yeah, uh. And maybe dinner?” 

Kristen’s pulse jumps in her throat. They don’t do shit like that. Normally they go their separate ways at night when he’s in town and there isn’t a home game. If Johnny’s going out, Kristen just tells him to call her five minutes before he’s leaving; he never, ever questions how quickly she arrives. 

The words _are you asking me out on a date, man?_ get stuck in her throat. 

“Uh. Sure?” 

“Cool. Um, I guess you’ll just meet me at my place, huh?” 

Kristen nods, dazed, but still catches the slight disappointment in his voice, as if he wants to pick her up or some shit like that. “Yeah, okay.” 

She spends the rest of their morning together distracted, and he’s a little quiet too. At one point she catches a wince on his face and she thinks maybe she’s making this weirder than it needs to be. Maybe it’s just a hanging out thing. So she punches him in the shoulder and makes fun of the toque he’s wearing and it relaxes her a bit. Except Johnny seems to get even more tense afterwards. 

This is why Kristen doesn’t hang out with potential targets.  
____________________________

She’s not dressed up when she meets Johnny in the garage. He’s told her a few times now she could just come up, that he’d have the doorman let her in, but she’s refused. That’s just – really crossing a line, even moreso than she already has been. 

Kristen really hopes they aren’t going somewhere fancy because she’s in her standard display of skinny jeans and Converse. She’s still across the garage as he makes his way off the elevator and he’s smiling immediately, wearing his long coat and dark jeans so at least she can breathe easy over the dress code now. Her stomach does its standard swoop as he waves at her, his face so relaxed and open. Kristen takes a deep breath and is raising her hand to wave back when she hears the screeching of tires. Johnny freezes like a deer-in-headlines in the middle of the lane as a car comes zooming towards him and Kristen’s stomach flips for an entirely different reason. She screams his name and runs out towards the car, pushing Johnny out of its path and staring at it hard, concentrating all her energy on it, anger flaring at the thought of him – at the fact that he could’ve… 

She watches as if from afar as her telekinesis bends the car in two, grinding the engine to a halt and trapping the driver inside. He’s probably still alive, maybe paralyzed. Kristen doesn’t care. If she were the type, she’d kill him herself but she’s not. 

She’s breathing hard when she’s done, body shaking, and it’s only when she hears a small sound that she remembers Johnny, _Johnny_. He’s still on the ground, propped up on one elbow, a mess of shattered metal now around both of their feet. He’s gaping between her and the car and he looks – scared. 

Kristen feels her blood run cold. 

“How –“ he starts and Kristen waves him off. 

“Are you okay?” 

Johnny nods, mouth open. “What—“ he starts again and Kristen can’t. 

“Just. Look, call the cops, okay? Tell them – I don’t care. Tell them whatever. I need to get out of here.” 

She turns away and hears him calling her name before she takes off in a run. 

She doesn’t care whether or not he’s seen her.  
_________________________________

Kristen heads back to her job the next morning. There’s already a headline of Jonathan Toews’ attempted murder. She feels her stomach churn but still heads to the coffee machine. 

“You look like hell, Stewart,” Terry says to her in the break room. “Why are you here?” 

Kristen shrugs, catching the bags under her eyes in the reflection of the coffee pot. “Gotta get back on the horse sometime, Sir.” 

He claps her on the shoulder.

Kristen doesn’t look at the story about Johnny until lunch, and then she nearly chokes on her salad. 

He didn’t mention her. 

_“Honestly, I have no idea what happened. I must’ve blacked out. One moment a car is heading straight for me and the next it’s bent in two. I wish I had something more to tell you.”_

Kristen reads the rest of the article with wide eyes and a full heart. The guy was some fan who was pissed at Canada winning Gold and at Johnny’s performance in particular. He’s in ICU and he’ll be charged officially once released. He apparently has a history of violence. Everyone is obviously still speculating it was Mystery Girl, since the other superheroes usually take credit for their deeds, but she doesn’t care. 

Kristen exhales sharply, relieved Johnny’s safe now. She can’t let herself think about the rest of it, not when she can still see the look on Johnny’s face, so clear in her head. 

It’s over. She saved him and that’s that. They can both get on with their lives. 

Except when Kristen goes home that night alone, and there’s nowhere to be that night, no bar to meet Johnny at, no plans to meet at his building the next morning, an emptiness fills her like never before.  
________________________

Two days later Kristen’s proofing a stupid fluff piece when Jack appears at her desk with a vase of roses. “These came for you.” 

Kristen eyes both him and the flowers skeptically. It’s not her birthday for a few more weeks. 

“Uh. Thanks?” 

Jack laughs. “You’re the only person I know who doesn’t get excited over flowers.” 

Kristen shrugs even though her heart has begun to race as she eyes the card with her name on it, in neat, careful script. 

She opens the card down near her lap so her nosy co-workers don’t sneak a peek. 

_I’m sorry my brush with death ruined our date._  
Tonight?  
(And yes, it was supposed to be a date).  
Johnny 

Kristen stares at the words, rubbing her thumb over the word ‘date.’ His phone number is on the back of the card and Kristen stares at that too, for long moments, before pocketing it. 

She does nothing about it until near the end of her shift, her eyes drifting to the flowers throughout the day. 

She should ignore him. It’d be the smart thing to do, honestly. 

So naturally she ends up texting him her address, telling him to pick her up at 7. 

___________________________

It’s a big step, having him come to her place. She hasn’t brought anyone home since she’s been in Chicago, any hookups having taken place at the other person’s house. 

Johnny knocks on the door at 7pm on the dot. Kristen looks at Jella, who is curled up on the top of the couch. “Here goes nothing,” she tells him. He yawns at her in response. 

Johnny’s wearing the same coat from the night they were supposed to go out and all Kristen can think about is the dirt from the ground that had been on it and the metal shards around him. She shakes herself mentally and meets his eyes. 

“Hi,” he says, voice hesitant. 

“Hey,” Kristen replies. 

She wants to launch herself at him and hug him and the thought is so foreign it startles her. 

She steps aside to let him in and close the door. 

“Your place is cute,” he says, looking around. 

Kristen rolls her eyes and bites down the urge to make a contrary remark, comparing it to what his place must be like. 

“How are you?” she says instead, eyeing him and reminding herself it’s rude to x-ray his body for injuries. 

“I’m okay. Shaken up at first, you know.” 

Kristen nods, biting her lip. 

“And then I was tied up in the legal bullshit. Sorry I didn’t contact you sooner.” 

Kristen shrugs. “You don’t owe me anything.” 

Johnny frowns. “Does that mean you didn’t like the flowers?” 

Kristen drags a shaky hand through her hair, not sure when the nerves had set in. The fact that she can run into burning buildings or stare down people with guns in their hands yet she can’t fucking handle talking to this stupid hockey player is ridiculous.

“They aren’t really my thing, man,” she tells him honestly. “But they were thoughtful. Thanks.” 

Johnny laughs wryly. “Uh, I should be thanking _you_. You were right all along. I didn’t – I didn’t take it seriously.” 

Kristen can’t even feel smug about it anymore, still too frayed at the image of him caught in those headlights. This is why saving strangers is so much easier. 

“Well, now you know.” 

Johnny looks at her face searchingly and Kristen wants to back down from his inquisitive gaze but stands her ground. 

“Yeah,” he says finally. “I do.” 

His words are pointed and Kristen’s stomach twists. 

“It freak you out?” She tries to keep the words casual, tries to pretend she doesn’t give a damn about the answer, but instead she’s remembering the way Rob looked the first time she moved something with her mind. Since then, more superheroes have been outed and shit, so maybe it was the strangeness of it all, of the fact that no one really had heard of too many others like her, besides the big guns. He sent her an email about a year ago apologizing for his behavior, about how it all devolved into embracing her powers or embracing _him_ , but it’s been a little tough to shake. 

She’s so lost in her own thoughts she doesn’t realize Johnny’s taken a step closer until his hand is in her own. 

“No. I mean, yeah, it’s different, obviously. Maybe even a little weird. But so are you.” 

Kristen looks up at him and grins through her stuttering heart. “Fuck you, who you callin’ weird?” 

Johnny’s grinning outright now. “You,” he says, raising his other hand to her hair. Kristen sighs into the touch. “And I like it. Plus, you’re. You’re sort of amazing, you know?” 

They’re standing super close now, staring at one another. Kristen can’t really respond to that. She’s -- she’s just happy to be helping people. She doesn’t think that makes her truly special or anything. Still, her heart is in her throat when she clears it loudly. “Thank you. For, uh, not telling anyone.” 

Johnny nods, fingers tightening around her own. “I figured if you’d wanted people to know you would’ve gone public by now, like that dude with the fire.” 

Kristen laughs loudly. “He’s an attention seeking douchebag.” 

Johnny’s fingers keep stroking through her hair and it feels so good, comforting. He’s smiling down at her fondly now. “Yeah, makes sense. Besides, you don’t even have a cool superhero outfit. You rescue people in Converse.” 

Kristen pushes him back a little, mock-affronted. “The fuck is wrong with Converse, man?” 

Johnny laughs, holding his hands up in front of him. “Nothing, nothing. You’re a trendsetter.” 

“Damn straight I am,” Kristen replies smugly. 

They gaze at one another again, openly, and Kristen drags her eyes down to his body again. Black boxers this time. 

Johnny’s smirking at her when their eyes meet again, knowingly like the first time. “Like what you see?” 

Kristen flushes. “Shut up, asshole.” 

She swallows when he takes a step closer again. 

“I wanted to uh, ask you out for a while but I couldn’t get a reading on you. So finally I just did it.” 

Kristen frowns. “What’s that even mean, couldn’t get a reading on me?” 

Johnny shrugs. “Just – couldn’t figure out if you were just hanging out with me because you were doing your duty or – if you wanted to be.” 

Kristen feels her cheeks heat. “Little bit of both, man,” she admits and he probably doesn’t realize how hard it is for her to say that, so she figures she should throw him a bone. “Look, uh, this superhero shit for me? It’s easy as pie. Dating? Not so much.” 

Johnny nods, seriously. “Same.” Then he laughs. “Uh, not the first part, obviously. But the second – same.” 

Kristen shakes her head. “You’re a dork, dude.” 

Johnny shrugs. “You like it,” he says confidently. 

Instead of responding, Kristen puts both hands on his arms and stands on her tiptoes, pressing upward. Johnny’s eyes go wide for a moment and then he leans down, letting out a low groan as their lips meet. Kristen sighs against his mouth as he leans down, wrapping his arms around her tightly and pulling her in closer, licking slowly between her lips. Their tongues meet and tangle, exploring one another’s mouth like they’ve got all the time in the world. 

Kristen moans softly as Johnny’s hands twine in her hair, angling her head upward and deepening the kiss even further, turning it into something dirty and hot. Kristen wraps her arms around Johnny’s waist, pressing their bodies together, thrusting almost desperately, her tits right up against his chest and his dick against her torso, beginning to harden. It’s been way too long since she touched someone like this and now that she’s started she doesn’t really want to stop. 

Kristen’s panting by the time she breaks away, dragging her teeth along the stubble at his jaw. 

“What do you say we ditch dinner and you eat me out instead?” 

Johnny lets out a choked-off groan. “Um. I’d be down for that.” 

Kristen shivers as his lips slide over her neck, even as she rolls her eyes. “That was terrible, man.” 

Johnny giggles against her and she lets her hands fall to his ass, squeezing. Then she’s dragging him in the direction of the bedroom while Jella meows loudly at them. 

“You didn’t even introduce me to your cat,” he complains as they fit their mouths together again, shuffling towards the bed. 

Kristen bites down on his lip. “Do you want my pussy or my cat, man?” 

Johnny groans like his life is so hard. “ _Now_ who’s terrible?” 

Kristen pushes him backward so he falls onto the bed and smirks down at him. “You started it.” 

Then she straddles his thighs, stripping off her shirt in the process, and kisses him before he can argue. 

_____________________________

The next morning Kristen’s feeling well laid and Jella is curled around her neck. There’s also the smell of eggs in the air. 

“Yo,” she calls out. 

“Breakfast!” she hears in response. 

Kristen rubs at her eyes, grinning, and shrugs Jella off before standing. They both pad into the bathroom where she brushes her teeth and then she lifts him into her arms, walking to the kitchen.  
Johnny’s smiling at the stove. “Morning,” he says, poking at the eggs with a spatula and leaning back to kiss her. 

It’s lazy and perfect. 

“He doesn’t like me,” Johnny nods towards Jella. 

Kristen frowns and buries her face in his fur. “He’s protective.” 

Johnny laughs brightly. “Yes, I figured that out when I woke up to him staring at me across the room, hissing.”

Kristen kisses Jella on the head and lets him down. “He’s mostly chill,” she says, wrapping her arms around Johnny from behind. 

He leans back against her. “Yeah? What’s his name?” 

“Max. But his alter ego is Jella.” 

She feels his body rumble with laughter against her. “He has an alter ego too, eh?” 

Kristen slaps him on the ass and heads to the fridge for the orange juice. “Duh. He’s like, this soulful blues musician from Louisiana when he’s not being a cat.” 

Johnny looks at her like he’s trying to puzzle if she’s being serious right now, which is honestly the best thing ever. 

“Makes sense,” he decides, before turning back to his eggs. 

Kristen starts the coffee, humming to herself and trading secret glances with Johnny. 

Her life is still: badass superhero, work, and Jella but -- she thinks she could definitely make this part of it, too. 

[end]

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the alter ego thing about her cat is actualfax real, because KStew is the bomb.


End file.
